Brown Eyes and Teal Hair: New Perpectives
by WoeMeTheWriter
Summary: After Orianna's eventful fifth year, things can only go up right? Well James seems to more popular than ever and takes advantage of it. Orianna seems to have crawled back into her shell, hoping for a normal year. Well if love and the Krad Cigam have anything to do with it, it won't the be the smooth year Orianna was hoping for. Colours are mixing, but do they complement each other?
1. Last Night Drinks

**_This is the SEQUEL to Brown Eyes and Teal Hair, so please read that story before New Perpectives, you will find it on my profile._**

**_Enjoy!_**

-I do not own and the the HP universe e.g. JKR's characters, buildings, spells ect.

**_Listening to: New Perpectives by P!ANIC at the Disco_**

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**Chapter 1: Late Night Drinks**

_Fire. It seems to be around me. Consuming me. I try to take a deep breath, but all I can manage are short shallow ones. The flickering flames bite my skin without mercy, leaving me with ugly looking burns. My hair is getting the brunt of the attack as well. It was now dishevelled and burnt. I feel trapped. I am trapped._

_I hear a shrill, mocking laugh. A girl approaches my burning body. Her skin is burnt as well, leaving large burns all around her porcelain body. The girl's brown hair was singed at the ends and her eyes had a malicious look to them. Eli._

_"Eli." I croak at trying to sit up, but it pains too much, so I lay back down._

_"It hurts, doesn't it. Fire." She barely moves her lips, but I hear every word._

_"Help me, please" I plead. She laughs again in the mocking tone._

_"Did you help me Orianna?" She asks walking closer. "Did you run into a burning room and save me?"_

_"I couldn't Eli! I tried, but-but-"_

_"But-but," she imitates "I thought we were in this together Orianna, but it seems like you only looked out for one person. Yourself!" Elizabeth draws out a silver dagger._

_"Elizabeth please listen! I never wanted you to die! I should of did something! I should of helped you. I know!" I exclaim tears stinging my burning face._

_"That's the thing with Hindsight. It only tortures the living, not the dead" and Eli strikes the dagger into my burning heart._

I wake up in a cold sweat, gasping in air. That dream. The dream where I am burning alive. The dream where Elizabeth is cold and murderous. The where Eli kills me. I shiver at the thought of my best friend killing me. Elizabeth, a murderer, no. But the dream still plagues me two weeks after Elizabeth Taylor's death.

I kick away the sheets, that were tangled in between my legs and stand up. During the day or night, the room that Uncle Adrian gave me still looks plain and boring. The white walls and cream carpets just reminded me of my bedroom in Andrew Manor which depresses me slightly.

I have a small desk, which is covered with half decent attempts of letters to send James a letter. Any time I do try to write, all that comes out are sympathy soaked rubbish. It's not like he has written to me yet either, so it seems like we are in the same boat. But there is one small sheet of cardboard that stands out. Not because it was onyx black with white writing or because as the moonlight shines on it it seems to glitter slightly.

No, because it was an invitation to Eli's funeral.

I knew it was coming, of course. I just don't want it to be too sad. Eli was a happy person after all.

I walk over to the door and stop when I reach the mirror hanging just beside it. My night top is drenched in sweat and my black hair is unkempt and sticks up in funny places. I sigh deeply, turn the door knob and walk out of the door.

Uncle Adrian's London apartment was not the biggest by any means. There were only two bedrooms, a closet sized office, a small bathroom and an even tinier kitchen. The living room was one of the only rooms you could go into where the room wasn't filled to the brim with quizzes and test papers. Uncle Adrian was an English teacher at a local secondary school and during the past two weeks he has been fretting over lesson planning and grade estimating.

I, on the other hand, have been trying to keep busy with reading. All of the books Uncle Adrian are written by the muggle writers like Shakespeare and Jane Austen. Interesting little tales they have written as well. Well interesting enough to keep my mind off my recurring nightmare...

I tip toe quietly down the narrow corridors and slip into the kitchen. The floor are titled the cliche black and white and walls are painted a disgusting shade of green. I walk over towards the fridge and open it. My eyes automatically go to the glass bottle with blood red liquid in it. Without thinking I take it out and uncork the bottle. I am about to pour it into a wine glass when the lights flick on.

Uncle Adrian was standing leaning on the door frame looking tired. He was probably still up creating revision timetables for his year eleven classes or something. He is wearing some pinstriped pajama bottoms with a white vest.

"Umm," is all that comes out of my mouth. I'm not used to getting caught. I was usually quiet and agile enough to read by candlelight in the Andrew Manor library at night when my bed became too uncomfortable. Or when me and Eli- _Don't think about Eli._

"So are you going to drink that?" He gestures the bottle in my hand. I pour the red liquid into the glass and take a big gulp. "Does that answer your question?" I say and finish off the glass. It tastes incredibly bitter, but I feel a little less heavy than I did, a moment ago, so I pour myself another.

I raise the glass to my lips, but I notice Uncle Adrian is still staring. I slam my glass down. "Go on tell me off."

"I wasn't going to, " he replies simply.

"Why?"

"Because you are old enough to make your own choices."

"I'm 16."

"Are you telling me that a sixteen year old witch can't make her own choices?" I eye my uncle curiously. He should be trying to stop me from getting drunk not encouraging me!

"So are you done with that bottle, because I feel like a little wine as well." He says. I look at the bottle, then him and then pour some more wine into my glass.

"Come, let's sit at the table." Uncle Adrian says after pouring out some wine for himself.

He removes the tall pile of paperwork and pulls out a seat for me that I take.

"So," he says after a long sip of wine, "Why are you up at this time?"

"I couldn't sleep." It wasn't really a lie, I mean I couldn't sleep, because if I did I will be haunted by my dead and murderous best friend.

"Is that all? You can't sleep, so you drink."

"You don't know anything!" I exclaim finishing off my second glass.

"Then tell me." And he sits at the table with me. I stare at his bright blue eyes as I pour myself another glass.

"Well, if you haven't noticed all I do is read, cry and sleep."

"I have noticed Orianna and it really isn't healthy"

"Then please tell me what is! Because I don't think losing your best friend to Fienfyre is on a to do list for every teenager." I take a big gulp of the bitter wine and will myself not to let the tears I am holding in go.

"Of course it isn't normal, and drinking three glasses of wine isn't either."

"What is your point Uncle Adrian?" I sometimes, butmy glass again.

"How the hell are you not drunk?" Uncle Adrian exclaims watching me in amazement as I start sipping my 4th glass.

"Wizards and witches have stronger blood because of the magic in our veins. It takes more alcohol to affect our 'inhibitions'. " I say.

"Oh. So you want to be a healer?"

"I did think of becoming one, but,"

"But..."

"I love magical creatures! They are so fascinating. I mean, they can be dangerous sometimes, but once you get passed it they are truly wonderful. " I say, but start blushing immediately after. "Mother would have a heart attack if I told her I want to be a Magizoologist though," I sigh.

"Well, Alicia shouldn't be dictating your life-"

"I'm not being dictated!" I don't like that word. It makes me feel weak or oppressed. "And anyway, she can't do any dictating behind the Azkaban bars." There is silence when both of us are sipping our wines eyeing each other.

I sigh. "So how was your childhood like with my devil of a father?"

"Really good actually," he smiles, "until Atticus and Edmund started to be poisoned by the whole pure blood thing."  
"Was that before or after he met my mother?"

"Hmm, same time I think. Your mother was a looker then, no wonder your dad was smitten." I could see what he was saying. Behind the stern looks and acid tongue, my mother was quite beautiful. Sometimes, I wonder how my beautiful mother turned so ugly inside.

"You look like her you know."  
What! No, I don't!" I feel almost offended to be told something like that. I don't look nothing like that psycho witch. "I only look like her if I go like. This," I take a deep breath, close my eyes and try to imagine my mother's face and features. By the audible gasp I hear, I know my morphing has worked. I open my eyes and smirk at Uncle Adrian gobsmacked expression. "And I, " I say shaking off my morph, "do not look like that."  
"Okay, maybe not in the looks category, but in the sparkle in your eyes"

"The sparkle in my eyes," I scoff.

"Yeah, when Atticus use to bring her back home over the summer holidays, she had a sparkle in her eyes. You know life. " He says rather dreamily.  
"Uncle Adrian, did you have a crush on my mother?"

"Maybe, but that lasted for like ten minutes before she disregarded me because I was a squib. Just don't lose that sparkle Orianna." I move uncomfortably under his gaze.

"So, go on. Tell me all about your escapades at muggle school, some drama, your first kisses-"

"Hey, just because I'm letting you get drunk on wine, doesn't mean you can dive into my sex life!" I blush so deeply, that the ends of my raven hair turn pink.

"I wasn't talking about your sex life! Just about your crushes and all" my voice is unnaturally high, which mean the alcohol is settling in.

"I didn't really have crushes. My muggle school was an all boys one."

"Oh, I forgot you were a squib for a second" I say. I quickly cover my mouth like a slug is about to come out. My thoughts are coming out as speech.

"Hahahaha, it must be nice being a witch. It seems like I'm more muggle than squib now anyway."

"Aren't they the same? They are both non magical people."

"You would think that, but being a squib brings shame and disgrace to your family, while muggles seem more accepting." He says slowly sipping the last of his wine. "Mother wasn't ashamed though, loved me like I was a wizard. Even read me some muggle stories like-"

"Cinderella!" I interrupt. It's Uncle Adrian's time to blush.

"Yeah, well, I never really liked that one."

"Grandmother said you loved it."

"Well, mother lies." He says back with a grin, but my one drops. "Grandmother does lie." I say in a monotone.  
"Orianna, Selena didn't-"

"But she did! She lied about my mother, your brothers. She knew about that bloody scandal. She ended up dead because of it!"

"Enough!" I realise that me and Uncle Adrian are both standing. "Enough Orianna." He says. I take deep breaths, but it doesn't help me. Grandmother was dead and it was because of my wretched family. How could he try to defend them? I finish the rest of my wine in one swallow and head back to the fridge.

I reach out for the tall white glass bottle now. "I don't think you should drink that. It's vodka. And it's Elizabeth's funeral tomorrow-"

"Do you think I'm stupid? I know it's Eli's funeral," my voice catches in my throat. I swallow. "Don't worry, I'm witch remember?" I sneer. I pick out one of his shorter glasses and stomp upstairs.

Now in the sanctuary of my small bedroom, I fill up the glass and swallow the vodka in one gulp. For Eli. I fill it up again and repeat my actions. For grandmother. My vision is already blurry and I start swaying dangerously. But I piece myself together for one more shot. For me. That is the last thought I think before successfully collapsing on my bed and dropping the glass with a ear splitting smash.

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**Hope you liked it guys! Please review, favourite and follow as it means a lot to me! Thanks and happy reading! **


	2. The Funeral Of Elizabeth Taylor

_**I am so sorry for the late chapter. I just lost my inspiration for a couple of weeks but I just got it back yesterday. I hope you forgive me! Without further ado here is chapter two!**_

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**Chapter 2: The Funeral of Elizabeth Taylor**

"I never ever want to be hungover aga-" But I am interrupted by my own vomit.

I have been over this toilet for a good half an hour but I still feel no different from the time I began vomiting. Awful. It was almost funny the way I jumped up from out of my bed this morning and ran into the bathroom.

After figuring out it was safe I quickly put on my dress and washed my face. But it wasn't to last for long, as my drunken night came back in full force to punish me in the form of puke. And that is why I am currently kneeling over the toilet, feeling like crap.

"How could you let me drink that much?" I moan trying to lift me head but my head feels like there are a million bricks on top of it, so it goes back down.

"Call it tough love." Uncle Adrian says holding my hair back, as I retch more. "I make you do whatever you want to do and you feel the consequences of your actions."

"That is any horrid way of dealing with teenagers," I say finally finding the strength to lift my self from the side of the toilet and wobble to a mirror.

"It works on my students. I find it a nice way to deal with annoying youths." He says rather proudly standing upright.

"Yeah, it wasn't like I had a funeral to go to the next day, Uncle Adrian!" I exclaim but my shout makes my head hurt, so I stop.

"Hey, you're the one who decided to binge drink before the funeral."

"I'm a teenager! I do stupid stuff. You're the adult, you are suppose to stop me from getting hurt, or anything."

"Don't your wizards have a anti hangover potion?" He says, a tiny bit of bitterness seeping through.

"Sorry Uncle Adrian. Let me go and call my mother. Oh wait, she's in Azkaban." I hear my uncle tutting behind me.

"Will you be drinking a bottle of wine with shots of Vodka again?" Uncle Adrian asks.

"No." The answer rose to my lips without me stopping it without any restraint. Never again, will I be _this _hangover.

"Good, so are we ready?" I look in the mirror: I still have a dribble of vomit on my chin and my bed head was still a stubborn black. The dress I picked out for the funeral, a long sleeved one which fell to my knees, feels uncomfortably tight at the moment and I am in two minds about my messy ponytail I quickly make. I am so not ready.

"I'm-" but I cover my mouth and run to the toilet just in time, as a new wave of vomit came out of my mouth.

"-So not ready." Uncle Adrian sighs, walking to my side once more to hold my hair back.

I stumble out of the fireplace just to be met with a dark, dusty room. I hear my Uncle cough behind me as I walk around the small room.

"I never want to floo again." Uncle Adrian says readjusting his black tie and running his hand through his blond curls.

"I thought you would be used to it. Living with a magical family for the best part of eighteen years."

"I haven't used the floo in quite a few years Orianna. If there was anything I detested in the wizarding world it would be the floo."

"And that you couldn't do magic." I say.

"Hmmm maybe that's a close second."

Eli's parents, Leigh-Anne and Robert Taylor, had kindly invited many of Elizabeth's school friends to the funeral. But they seemed reluctant to use their fireplace as a gateway to many wizards and witches, so they actually found a small shack not far away from the cemetery that had a fireplace. Which is the reason why I seem to be ducking every second so my head doesn't get caught in a spider web.

We eventually find the door to the small room and find navigate our way through the dirty corridor that lead to the front door. The August breeze was so much better than the dust clouds we had to endure in the small shack. But it has a hint of something. Of death.

The shack seems to be situated at the bottom of a steep, jade hill. Great, just what I need another mountain to climb while I'm battling one already internally.

"So," my uncle huffs as he tries to follow my quick pace up the mountain-I mean the hill, "what's the plan?"

"What do mean 'plan'? Its a funeral."

"I know that, but wouldn't you be expected to speak" I stop in my tracks.

"Speak?"

"Yes, speak. Its your friends funeral."

"No, no, no,no," I mutter to myself as I walk back down to the shack.

"Oi, where are you going?" He grabs my elbow just before I pass by.

"Orianna." He says calmly looking me straight in the eye.

"What? I can't do this! Why do you think I downed a whole bottle wine yesterday, Uncle Adrian? Because I can't do this! I can't do death,or funerals or my best friend dying." Tears roll down my cheeks, and I didn't reject the warm hug Uncle Adrian gives me.

"It's okay."

"I shake my head. " No it isn't, how am I going to go Hogwarts Uncle Adrian. How am I going to go sleep, knowing she used to sleep in the bed right beside me, how am I going to pass potions because she was the one who helped me right those essay, how I am-how am I-" but I just sob into my uncle's chest.

It hurts knowing you will never hear that person's laugh or see their smile. It was those little touches that burns the most.

"Orianna, it's okay to cry, be angry and feel lost. But what you can't do is not live. Tell me this, would Elizabeth want to see you like this? Drinking yourself into despair, mopping about, not giving a damn about tomorrow." I shake my head. "Then dry your eyes. We have to do this...for Elizabeth."

Every step seems like a heavy weights are tied to my feet. But I keep walking up the goddamn hill. I keep walking for Eli.

When I reach the top of the hill, I easily spot Weasley and Potter clan because of their vivid red hair. Near them are large parties of brunettes and black haired people, old and young. I allow Uncle Adrian's hand to slip into mine and let him guide me to the ceremony.

I recognise some of Elizabeth's friends from the pictures she used to stick up on the wall. Veronica, Xavier, Laura, Cynthia and more I can't remember the names of. I feel a tiny sting of jealousy. She was my best friend. It was me, Eli and James. No one else. No muggles. But I feel my jealousy ebb away when I see their tear streaked faces. They didn't even know exactly how she died, why she died, where she died. They didn't even know she went to Hogwarts. That she was a witch!

"Orianna." I turn my head to the right and see a tall but pretty brunette heading my way. She wears a small, but strangely heartbreaking smile. "Mrs Taylor," I say hugging the mother of my dead best friend, "It's nice to see you." I say genuinely. Over the course of my years at Hogwarts, I have been to Godric's Hollow many times.

Most of the times it was because Elizabeth would make me vow to come over to her house. She said it was because she wanted me to meet her 'awesome' friends or taste to see if her Victoria Sponge was edible or just to simply help her tidy her ever messy room. James was almost always there as well. He was an angel in front of the Taylors, but when he normally added more than a dash of salt to the cake recipe, I knew he was still old James.

The Taylors were drama teachers in a local secondary school. Always, bright and bubbly they were, a little bit quirky sometimes, but always kind and caring.

Mrs Taylor was wearing the standard black attire, but she wore a colourful, but badly knitted shrug. "Oh," she says after she notices me looking at it, "Eli knitted it back in her first year of Hogwarts." She says rather proudly, with tears glossing her eyes.

"She was never good at knitting." Says an equally tall man, putting a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder. His brown hair was grown to his shoulders and he had the same small smile as his wife.

"Mr Andrews." I give him a hand to shake, but he surprises me with a bear hug. Immediately, I feel tears coming to my eyes.

"I'm so so sorry." I say coming out of the hug.

"Don't worry about it Orianna. We both knew that magic is dangerous ability to have." He says pulling his wife closer.

"Really? You said you were both really-"

"Happy for Elizabeth to be going Hogwarts? We were, but as parents you have your reservations." He says.

"Well, I'm-I'm sorry, about E-Eli." I stutter out twinderling my fingers. Mr Taylor chuckles a sad chuckle.

"Don't. It's...fine." He says. I can already see the tears welling up in his eyes, so I politely excuse myself and head to the Weasleys'.

"Orianna, " And before I can say anything I am enveloped in a bone crushing hug.

"Hi Rose," I give a small smile to the redhead who is teary.

"Hi Anna-" Albus says. I am the one to cut him off now throwing my arms around him.

"Hey Al, " I always get along with the young Potter. While, James seemed a bit more cocky with, well everything, Al was more humble, more sensitive in a sort of way.

"How are you? I mean of course you're feeling horrible, but not because of Elizabeth's death! Well, kind of because of Eli's death. Maybe horrible was a bad word to use-"

"Stop blabbering Al!" Rose snaps at her cousin.

"It's okay Rose. I guess I'm just feeling..." But I can't think of a word which can sum up my feelings inside of me. Maybe a-

"Dull grey with flecks on sapphire blue." I look up and see Prim standing there. She is still the short, brunette that I met so many months ago. Her olive eyes wide and dreamy with knowledge, but they seem a little red and puffy. Besides Prim, stands Madison, a bubbly, frizzy haired strawberry blonde. Her eyes seem red and puffy as well and she was clutching a pale blue handkerchief. Both were dressed in black dresses.

I hug my best friends and start talking to them about what is going to happen at the funeral.

"My uncle Adrian says that I have to says some stuff about Eli,"

"Well that's nice of you," Madison smiles.

"It's the least I could do you know," Memories of the night before swarm into my head and I feel a headache coming on.

"Do you know where James is? His chocolate aurora seems to be missing?" Prim says looking around.

"I haven't seen him." I say, a bit worried. He didn't take Eli's death well and spent most of his days in his dormitory in the days after. I didn't blame him though. It seemed like the whole school was mourning and James just mourned in his own space.

I see people walking into a nearby church.

"Looks like we should go in." I say miserably.

"Then let's go." Prim says simply, taking my hand and leads me towards the now daunting building.

"-and that's why Elizabeth will always stay close to my heart,"

and Lauren Spike started sobbing into the mic. Lauren was Elizabeth's friend in primary school, and she made very clear in her 'speech' that Elizabeth was the greatest person around. A god on Earth so to speak. How very wrong she was. Elizabeth was great because she had faults, she was human.

Mr Taylor has to practically drag Lauren off the stage, while Mrs Taylor dabs her eyes. "Well, that was a heartwarming speech Lauren. Next to say a few words about Elizabeth is her _special _friend Orianna Andrews." Mrs Taylor says.

_Crap _I think. I forgot that after Lauren it would be another one of her friends. And it seemed like a only a logical thing to do, considering most of her friends had already spoken.

I stiffen my resolve and walk up to the little altar.

The Potter/Weasley clan thought it would be good to sit at the back, to avoid any attention that their bright red hair would have attracted. But people still occasionally looked back to see if their eyes were deceiving them.

Now in front of Elizabeth's friends and family, I feel like melting under the pressure. It takes all of my effort to keep my hair black and eyes open. I take a deep a breath.

"Elizabeth was a dear friend to me." I say, but doesn't sound like me, but a person who regards their friends as items to collect then discard. A notice I haven't spoken for a while and Albus' eyes catch my attention. He seems like he is about to jump out of his seat and save me. I suppress a giggle at the thought and then I scold myself for even thinking of something so trivial at a funeral! I clear my throat and start over again.

"I met Eli in my first year of my boarding school. She seemed to have an air of confidence about her, but me being my bookish self I stuck to my books instead of making a friend of Eli. But I never forgot about Eli. I was always secretly jealous of her athletic skills, how she could talk to basically everyone and still get a decent grade in her lessons. It was really by accident that I had a proper conversation with Eli. After years of me making mental notes about how she normally holds a conversation, I thought I knew about Eli. I was wrong. There is much more stuff underneath her confident personality and I feel privileged that she made me saw what was underneath. A pure caring heart. She taught me that I might be a little different, but I shouldn't envy people as nobody is perfect. Eli made me more confident as a person. And I will never forget that Eli was the one who gave me that confidence." My eyes were watery by the end of my speech and a let a few tears go.

"Come on Orianna." says a voice behind me. It's Al. I nod shakily and let him lead me back towards our seats. From the corner of my eye I see a boy behind a pillar. It's James. I feel like running towards him and hugging him and shouting at him for not writing to me during the past two weeks. But, I leave him be. He is probably hurting more than I. He was her boyfriend after all.

"We would like you to make your way into the graveyard for the burial, please." Mr Taylor says, and people start to make their way outside.

"That was really brave of you, Orianna." Rose says to me, giving me hand a squeeze.

"It was the least I could do. For Eli."

We all enter out of the church, and I was about to walk up to Mr and Mrs Taylor, when a hand grabs my elbow.

"What-Harry?"

"I saw James too and...can you speak to him please?" Harry says quickly

"What about the burial?"

"You can convince him then, to come to the burial. He has been taking the death…not very well." Harry says rubbing his eyes.

"He won't talk to you?"I ask.

"Me. Ginny. Anyone really,"

"It's okay. I will go and talk to him."

"Thanks. A lot," and he walks back to his family

I walk over the slightly muddy terrain over to a small hut. I wonder why such a miserable looking hut is in the middle of a graveyard, but I advance to it anyway. The door is only on one of its hinges and moss is growing on the wooden walls. As I push the piece of wood open, I cringe at the sound, showing the age of the hut. The roof is slanted and cobwebs hang from the ceiling like chandeliers.

I see him in the corner, sitting on the floor, knees brought in. Walking tentatively towards the brunette, I screw up my nose in disgust. The pungent smell coming from the shed is disgusting and I wish I had my wand on me, so I can perform a cleaning spell.

"James." I whisper, crouching down in front of him. His eyes are red and puffy and face ghostly pale. I wonder if he has eaten over the two weeks, but I keep my mouth shut and give him a small smile. James stares at me for a second but then buries his face in his hands.

"James-"

"Why Eli, Orianna? Why her?" He sounds like a five year old, asking why his fish had died. But Eli wasn't a fish and James wasn't a five year old.

"I-I don't know James," I say honestly, cringing at the dust that rises as I sit next to James. We sit in silence for a while, before James mumbles something.

"What?"

"Your speech was really beautiful."

"It was the least I could do," The words I say seem to trigger something in James, and he looks up suddenly.

"I am such a coward. I couldn't even say a few words for my girlfriend." His eyes start to water. I instinctively grab his hand.

"You are not a coward, James Potter." I say sharply, even though I rub gentle circles into James' hand. "You ran into that fire, not me,"

"I'm a Gryffindor, what do you expect? It was idiotic." James pulls his hand away from mine and bites his nails.

"Eli used to hate when you bit your nails," I say, but I immediately regret it. I shouldn't of mentioned Eli!

But, to my surprise, James smirks. "Yeah. She said that I reminded her of the time she found a toenail in her cupcake,"

"Eli said that she checked through foods so thoroughly after that 'incident'."

"You could say she was toe-erified!" James joked. The was a small pause, but then there are sounds of laughter. It's such a terrible, terrible joke, but the sense of normality is so comforting, James and I are wrapped in a laughing fit.

We start chatting a little more freely and it makes me happy to be talking to James again.I had missed his small smile and entertaining stories about Quidditch. He was almost normal again. But in his eyes I saw a ghost of something I couldn't put my finger on.

"Should at get some food?" I ask, wiping the dust bunnies from my dress as I get up.

"Yep. I am starving," James says, but his butt was still firmly on the floor.

"So shouldn't we go," I gesture the 'door'.

"Let's eat in here then," He says.

"James, this shed is a dump. I'm not eating anything in here."

"Please." I look straight into James' eyes. They are still red and a bit puffy.

I sigh and say "Fine, but we do actually have to get some food."

We both head out of the hut and walk across the graveyard. James' hand finds mine and holds on tightly. I try to keep my eyes off the grey pieces of stone and walk to a table where they were giving out some biscuits. It feels weird that they are giving out biscuits at a funeral but me and James take a handful and rush back to the hut.

"To Eli," we chorus and take a bit out of our chocolate chip cookies.

"Hmm a bit dry," I say and James nods in agreement.

"Good thing I have this," and from his blazer pocket, James brings out a bottle of amber liquid. His cheeky smile falls when he sees my face.

"Are you okay Orianna?"

"I think I'm going to be sick," and I run to the corner and throw up.

"We should really go to the burial now," I say, leaning on some wood. And before James could say anything, I exit the shed. I wobble towards the groups of people and to my surprise I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"One last goodbye," James says, walking towards his dead girlfriend's grave too. I nod and, with more confidence in my step, approach the burial.

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**_I have never been to a funeral so that was my best shot! Next chapter we will be going to Madison's house! Please review, favourite and follow!_**


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